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by mabiyusha



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, idk i just want them to be together and happy :(((, was gonna be smut but it's mostly just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabiyusha/pseuds/mabiyusha
Summary: A little tender moment between the two - the first time they have gotten this close.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Simon, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Simon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Archadian_Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/gifts).



> a million thanks for [Archadian_Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/profile) for writing so many beautiful pieces for this rareship, which I adore. <3 you're wonderful!

Deviants, as Nines had noticed long ago, were fascinating.

Well, technically, he was one of them himself: but it was still strange for him to consider himself a part of this mass. He didn't think he could compare himself with all these androids- these  _ people _ , their stories, the raw emotions they have experienced that brought them so far. In his own eyes, he was still just a  _ machine that could feel. _

But the old deviants, the ones from before he was activated? The way they reacted, the way they saw the world around them. How they took in the sensations, it fascinated him.

Now, perhaps this wasn't the best moment to consider this subject in his head, but the comparison was stubbornly and steadily making its way back into his conscience.

“Nines...” A sigh was heard from below him, and he leaned in to comfort his companion with a soft kiss on his lips.

“It's okay,” he hummed, barely audible. “I'm here. I got you.”

For Simon, the thoughts-pattern was surprisingly similar to the other's.

Nines was fascinating. Not only was he made to deviate only just after the revolution, but he was also a unit that was built to precisely  _ never _ deviate. And yet, here he was.

He exceeded all the expectations in all the ways possible, and he  _ did _ break through the lines of code effortlessly and almost painlessly, and so quickly that he himself wasn't able to tell the difference between one state and the other. He had so much to learn, but he took it all in calmly, searching for the information and cataloging it in a computer-like manner, but with an android-like sensitivity.

Nines was fascinating, and Simon was in love.

And now they were here, and who knows how and when did this happen to the two of them. All that mattered was that they were close, and wanted to be closer, wanted to feel each other and learn all there was to learn, although in two different manners: Simon, needily craving the closeness and touch, almost desperate to know more, see more, hear more; and Nines, being focused on all the sensations he could give to the other and everything he was experiencing. Giving and taking, both in their own way.

The moment was theirs. From the moment their lips connected for the first time, and impatient hands wandered to pull off the clothes and remove all the borders and limits between them, through Nines finally picking Simon up to carry him to his small (and largely unnecessary) bedroom, safely within his arms (and, oh, how beloved was this feeling of safety), and the blonde giving out a soft noise of surprise as he clung to the other, all the way to the moment they landed softly in the beddings, a breath knocked from Simon’s artificial lungs (that served no purpose other than only partial cooling).

Simon reached out to rest his hand on Nines’ cheek, and the android stopped in his motions. Calm ocean gazed into steel and a soft voice spoke:

“You’re so beautiful.”

Nines knew. He was made to be this way, aesthetically pleasant and stereotypically nice to look at, but the raw, clear admiration, nearing reverence, that was heard in Simon’s voice and seen in his eyes made him hold back the comment.

“You’re so good to me.” The voice continued.

“How could anyone be anything else but good to you?” Something similar to disbelief sounded at the edges of the response as if he genuinely couldn’t see any way, any possibility of that happening.

“You’d be surprised, I suppose.”

“Simon.” He said in response, simply, finally, after a short period of genuine loss- and leaned in for another kiss.

His lips were so soft, as if they were made especially for that. Some bitter part of him thought that it could actually have been that way. Domestics were commonly used as intimate partners: why should it have been different with the PL600 model? Nines didn’t enjoy that idea. He preferred to think that they were made to admire and caress for him only, however unrealistic that was.

And again, to be entirely fair, Simon didn’t mean to comment only on his external beauty. The things he’d seen him do and heard him say, the way Nines’ amazing mind worked, the way he managed to put the puzzle pieces of reality together in such new, unexpected ways, they were much more awe-worthy than any part of his (however impressive) chassis.

“You’re making me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.” The RK finally uttered, surprising himself with how difficult it was to put into words. 

“I’d like to show you my gratitude, if you’d allow me.”

Simon’s face brightened up with a smile.

“I’d allow you to do anything you please, ever, if I had such power. Sadly, I can only offer you myself, and that I give to you entirely.”

A small wince crooked Nines’ usually perfectly stoic expression.

“All these times I’ve told you how much you mean- how much you  _ are _ to me, and you still tell me such things. Punishment is due, I’m afraid.”

Simon knew that tone well enough. When they’ve become closer, close enough to comfortably call each other  _ friends  _ instead of  _ acquaintances _ , Simon would often poke playfully at the literalness with which Nines tended to take most statements, and Nines would in return become unusually coy, inviting him to teach him a lesson, as domestics were used to. (Cleaners, babysitters, and homeschooling teachers - weren’t they a wonder?) Now it seemed like the tables would turn.

Nines leaned in to place a kiss on the pale neck, then a loving bite; Simon gasped, his eyes fell shut, and he knew he was home.


End file.
